The Warren Omissions by Jack Patterson Page B

theories, but why don’t you tell us which of these groups is responsible for JFK’s death.”
    Flynn paused, hoping he could deliver his pre-planned line the right way.
    “Well, Frances, the answer is simple: they all did.”
    Clarke forced a nervous laugh, wondering if she had been taken by Flynn for a cheap publicity stunt. Her fake smile wouldn’t stay plastered there for long if Flynn didn’t give her what she really wanted.
    “What I mean is that everyone wanted JFK dead for various reasons. But nobody did anything about it until the Kuklovod hired a CIA asset to orchestrate a plan that included Lee Harvey Oswald serving as the patsy.”
    Clarke furrowed her brow.
    “Now, back up here for a minute. Who exactly is the Kuklovod and why have we never heard of them?”
    “The Kuklovod is an extremist group dedicated to the principles of communism. And you’ve likely never heard of them because the CIA barely knew of their existence in the early 1960s. By the time they had plenty of information on them, the horse was out of the barn, so to speak, when it came to trying to figure out who killed JFK. And quite frankly, accusing another group would look bad since they had claimed to have their man already.”
    “So, why now? Why come out with this information today?”
    “Because I’ve learned the Kuklovod is active again on U.S. soil and that they’re plotting some act of terrorism very soon.”
    “How soon? Or can you say?”
    “I can say, Frances. I believe they’re going to make another attempt on the life of a U.S. President—and they’re going to do it tomorrow at the U.N.”
    Clarke ate it up. Seconds after the words spilled out of Flynn’s mouth, a ticker at the bottom of the screen captured a condensed version of the quote: “Journalist believes President’s life in danger at U.N. speech.”
    For the rest of the interview, Clarke looked intrigued and excited, like she had struck the TV talk show lottery. And she had. Flynn picked her show to reveal one of the greatest mysteries in American politics, even if the details were sketchy and didn’t make complete sense yet.
    Flynn, ever the showman, refused to divulge all the details, encouraging viewers to go to   The National’s   blog if they wanted to know more and view supporting media and documents. Teasing people’s curiosity on such a subject equated to mental torture. The second Flynn left the set, he imagined everyone bolting for their computers, tablets or smart phones, visiting the magazine’s blog for more information.
    On his way back to the Wyndham, his cell phone buzzed nearly the entire time, from text messages or voicemails. Requests for more information, and invitations to appear on other TV and radio programs streamed in. The only incoming call he answered came from his editor, Theresa.
    “That was quite a show you put on tonight,” Theresa said.
    “Thanks. I hope what I said is taken seriously,” Flynn replied.
    “Well, if our web traffic is any indication, people are definitely interested. The site has already gone down twice in the past ten minutes. It’s easily going to set a record for our most-read story if we can keep the site live.”
    “Fantastic. I hope I’m wrong about tomorrow, but I’ll be here to prove myself a fool or prove myself right if they arrest someone. Either way, it’s going to be a big day.”
    “Well, thanks for all your hard work. I knew sending you to New York was the right call.”
    Flynn rolled his eyes. The only reason she asked him to do it was because two other reporters were sick. Otherwise, none of this would be happening.
    He decided to take the humble route.
    “I appreciate the opportunity. I hope I can make you proud tomorrow, too.”
    Theresa wished him a good night before hanging up. Flynn couldn’t help but feel like that interview would be the turning point of his career, one that was already going well. If he could make all the evidence make sense, book deals would come